Tsubasa o Orinasu Mono
by lily22
Summary: Run if you can, and don't look back. Don't see me trapped, don't see my tears. If I could follow you to freedom, I already would have. [AU; Shounen-ai?; Part I of the Cubes Trilogy]
1. Ice

**Title:** Tsubasa o Orinasu Mono (**Part I of the Cubes Trilogy.**)

**Summary:** AU; yaoi? Found by a clan vampires, Seto and his colleagues can only hope that their captors will kill them swiftly. But maybe humans aren't the only ones trapped among the vampires.

**Warnings:** Dark. Will get darker. And lanuage.

**Thanks** so much to tenshimagic for betaing!

**Chapter 1:** Ice

* * *

Was there really no news more interesting than an oil spill in the arctic? If so… Well, this was a rather dull world.

Then again, being stuck in a 30-foot deep pit was anything but dull.

To think that Kaiba Seto, acclaimed reporter, prodigious writer, and winner of innumerous awards which had long overflowed the neat, cardboard boxes that he stored them in, would be reduced to this. This, of course, was standing on top of the news van, frozen despite thick coat (and the 5 layers of clothing underneath it), most expensive, though probably now useless, equipment clutched in arms quickly going numb, and trying not to move so he wouldn't shove his colleagues off. Surprisingly, all 18 of them fit on top of the van.

Someone sneezed. Someone screamed. There was a thud.

Oh, scratch that. It looked like the maximum occupancy of the top of a van was 17 people. Too bad. The man who'd slipped had been the cameraman, pretty essential to their news program. Not that they would have a news program for long if this kept up.

The snow and ice combined piled quickly on any surface that held still long enough, and after a while, it just became too tiring to shake it off. The fallen cameraman gave up trying to climb back up the van quite suddenly, falling backwards into the snow with a muffled thump. It was snowing like mad, and in just minutes, he was completely buried. Nobody tried to help him (although some did shout out "helpful" advice), knowing that if they did, they would only meet the same fate.

If the cameraman had retained any wits after his fall, (assuming, of course, that he'd had them to begin with) he would've walked to the other side of the van. After all, the entire hole was covered with ice, excepting the one break above his snowy grave where the van had fallen through. In those last moments, while the van had been falling, the wheels continued to roar, and had probably served to propel them forwards even though they weren't on solid ground anymore. This had not only slowed their fall, it also brought them under the protection of unbroken ice. Then again, the snow that fell didn't exactly stay in a neat little stack. It was already slanting forwards (damn the wind), and had surrounded the bus. Pretty soon, they would all be buried alive, ice or no ice. Unless the ice that had kept them alive thus far decided it was tired of waiting for the snow to finish the job and came crashing down upon them from the combined weight of the snow on top and the fracture lines the van had previously made.

Seto's morbid thoughts were interrupted when his sharp eyes caught sight of a shadow on the rim of ice. Squinting at the shadow, he found that after he looked at it too long, it didn't look any different from all the snow and ice that surrounded it, if it was even there at all. "Take this and give me the camera," Kaiba ordered, grabbing the camera from the woman next to him and dumping the equipment he had been carrying into her arms. She complied quickly; they all somehow thought of him as the boss, despite his youth; otherwise, he wouldn't have been standing in the center of the huddled group of miserable, freezing people, probably the safest place on top of the van, although safe in this case was a relative term. He turned around as much as the cramped conditions would allow, and found the man holding the zoom lens. Impatiently, he grabbed it out of the man's hands, motions graceful despite how restrained his arm movements were, and attached it deftly to the camera.

By now, people around him were murmuring. After standing deathly still for three hours already, someone was actually moving! And was the heck was he doing with a camera? What could he want to take a picture of around here?

He lifted the camera to his eyes and zoomed in on the shadow, but before he saw anything, distinct thuds and scrapes sounded. Confused, he took the camera from his eye for a moment.

The snow and ice mixture had been coming down heavily before, that was true. But in a sudden Armageddon moment, it seemed as if all the snow in the world was falling at once, and the sky with it, every bit struggling to get through their ceiling at the same time. Seto estimated ten people to be screaming, give or take, but nobody seemed to be falling over. The ice cracked some more, but held. And then the river of snow stopped.

It was considerably brighter, and Kaiba realized that he could kind of see through the ice overhead. The snow had been cleared off the ice? Still amazed by this, it took him a few seconds to realize that he could see a shape through the ice.

Words were shouted in a commanding tone and echoed down the pit, meaning disrupted by so many repetitions. They all waited anxiously, feeling rather short of breath, trying to decipher the words that rained upon them. Footsteps erupted overhead, apparently to carry out the commands.

A hand reached over the edge, and everybody was shouting and whispering and crying at once, relief evident in their voices. Only Kaiba remained silent. And then, in their celebration, another tipped over the side of the van. The driver. Everybody fell deathly silent again, but she didn't move. Red stained the snow around her head.

Cracking interrupted them and directed their gazes up rather than down at the second of the fallen among them. There were now four hands reaching over the edge, grabbing at the ice, cracking it and pulling it up. (Seto wondered dimly just how much strength was needed to pull up a layer of ice over five inches thick.) Finally, a huge sheet of ice was lifted away, and the break in the ice was tripled, but they didn't see any more of their rescuers than their hands and a few brief glimpses of sleeves.

A rope was flung down, slender and snake-like. It was amazingly long, managing to brush Kaiba amiably across the shoulder. He glared at it as if it were an enemy, stomach knotting in unease. Still, nobody moved.

Finally, somebody moved close enough to be seen. Dressed rather archaically in a leather cloak and boots, hair wind-swept and quite long, he raised a snow-frosted eyebrow at their stunned silence. "Well?" the walking anachronismasked."Are you going to climb out of there or what?"

Several people burst into cheers, but Kaiba stared up coldly. How could they trust this man? But then, there really was no other choice, was there? It was either climb or stay in the hole to await death. Being the closest to the rope, he grabbed it, grateful to find that it had been knotted at regular intervals. It was quite simple from there to grab on to each knot and heave himself up, and not long later, he had reached the man, who smiled and nodded and helped him up…

…And thrust him to the ground as soon as they were out of sight of everybody below. Three men Seto hadn't noticed before came up from behind him. An angular block of wood shoved into his mouth effectively blocked out all protests as his hands were tied behind his back.

Each person to emerge from the icy pit was treated in like fashion until all 16 of them were tied up and strung together like animals. Some cried, some tried to struggle through their bonds.

The long-haired man ignored them, walking forward andjoining the others in hushed discussion. He paused briefly to smirk back at the prisoners, and Kaiba felt his heart join his stomach.

The man had _fangs_.

Kaiba Seto and the rest of his team had been captured by vampires.

**To Be Continued…**


	2. Fire

**Title:** Tsubasa o Orinasu Mono (**Part I of the Cubes Trilogy.**)

**Summary:** AU; yaoi? Found by a clan of vampires, Seto and his colleagues can only hope that their captors will kill them swiftly. But maybe humans aren't the only ones trapped among the vampires.

**Warnings:** Dark. Slavery.

**Chapter 2:** Fire.

* * *

Vampires weren't exactly myths, but they weren't supposed to exist, either. That is, they did exist, but they had nothing to do with Kaiba, and since they didn't concern him, he would ignore him, and they would thus leave him alone, preferably by not existing.

Or not.

Not much was known about vampires. Considering that onlyabout three humans had ever escaped vampire captivity, this wasn't entirely a surprising fact. Those who lived to do so all told of evils beyond imagining: humans sold and tortured and used until their masters grew bored and fed upon them. Corpses stacked high in dumps when the vampires prospered and humans kept little better than dead when their owners couldn't afford to be lavish and dispose of humans whenever they felt like it. It was worse when the prisoners remained alive, a fact to which the survivors' scars, both physical and mental, were testimony.

The vampire leading the line of prisoners had been silent and somber the entire trip. He had not even flinched when Seto kicked him in the shins. When the kick had been repeated, the vampire had turned around and backhanded Seto in the jaw, sending the wood that gagged him further back in his throat until it almost choked him. Seto had stopped kicking. Even so, he was determined not to bow down to a bunch of blood-sucking parasites. No matter what they did to him, they could not, would not take away his defiance.

They neared a very large building, and the prisoners were marched in unceremoniously, led onto a sturdy-looking stage and behind thick curtains, where large wooden posts awaited ominously. Several more vampires wearing surprisingly casual clothing met them there, like angels come to lead them to the underworld. The ones that had herded them to this spot left, presumably to catch more humans.

One, wearing a sweatshirt and cargo pants, approached Seto (who was trying to retain as much dignity as he possibly could in a situation like this), lifted his chin forcibly up, and injected something into his neck. Forget dignity. All that mattered was the pain. It burned like forest fires (He would know; that had been last month's on-site news assignment.) spreading through his veins the way his blood was supposed to, the way the fire had flowed easily through trees,flames licking the branches, lapping at the night air as if to gauge it before it continued its spread. The vampire moved on to repeat the process down the line of captives. Seto noted grimly and with no little satisfaction that he was the only one who hadn't screamed. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. Even after the fire had subsided, a dull ache remained in the back of his head, like some small animal gnawing at his flesh.

Moments later, Seto found he could not move.

Sweatshirt-with-cargo-pants was back. With a professional disinterest, he untied Seto's wrists and removed the block of wood. The vampire stripped off Seto's coat, then his scarf, then his shirts, until Seto was naked waist-up. He eyed Seto's body critically, gaze lingering unpleasantly over his chest, and scribbled some notes on the clipboard hanging from the first wooden post.

A light sheen of sweat covered Seto's forehead as he tried to move, even blink, but he couldn't. His hands were yanked forcibly above him and tied to the post, not that it mattered except, perhaps, to prevent him from falling down, and then they finally left him alone.

They had taken his watch, so he had no way of knowing how much time passed. He estimated it to be an hour: an hour for them to half-strip each of his companions and inspect them like meat. He felt sorry for the girls of the group, and hastily averted his gaze, glad that his eyes obeyed him, even if his eyelids did not.

Then, the curtains opened.

It was surprisingly warm in the room, but Seto suddenly longed for his shirt. He couldn't decide what was more disconcerting: all the hungry stares on his bare upper body, or the fact that he couldn't shiver in response.

A bell rang somewhere behind them; vampires of every shape but mostly one size (the large size, of course) surged forward as one, eyeing the prisoners. His chin was lifted up so many times he could practically feel the bruises forming. Every time someone prodded him in the chest or ran a finger down his neck or twisted him around to inspect his back, Kaiba felt like snapping at them. But he couldn't.

Those who looked Kaiba over didn't seem to like what they saw. Their gazes lingered on the scars that littered Kaiba's back and wrists. "Suicidal," they muttered to themselves, looking disgruntled. "Not worth three gold."

One by one, Seto's comrades were led away. He watched with mute disgust as gold exchanged hands until finally he was one of three captives who hadn't yet been sold. Just about all the vampires had left. Dimly, Seto wondered what happened to those who weren't sold, but the throbbing in his head had grown until he could barely think… And that was Not Good, since thinking was what he did best.

The vampire who had been accepting gold readily from the buyers walked over to the slim girl at the opposite end of the line from Seto, a disgusting leer plastered to his face. "I guess you belong to me now, since nobody is willing to buy." The girl didn't flinch, of course. Before any of the captives knew what was happening, the vampire had jammed his tongue down the poor girl's throat.

Still, she couldn't struggle.

Seto looked away. Was this what would happen to him, too? It was what the few survivors had described, so it shouldn't have been a surprise. Yet it was too terrible to even consider, being slaves to vampires until their _masters_ grew _bored_.

A loud voice caught his attention, and Seto looked towards the sound. A brown-haired vampire who looked to be at the peak of his youth was yelling, arguing with… with another vampire. The second vampire, definitely the shorter of the two, was waving his arms animatedly, causing his head to shake and send waves through the magenta and black spikes that were evidently supposed to pass off as hair.

The boy was pointing at Seto.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Seto couldn't decide, the boy stormed off minutes later, pausing only to grab a warm-looking cloak that draped down to his ankles, violet eyes filled with exasperation. The gold-collecting vampire, grazing his teeth over the girl's throat, disengaged himself from Seto's coworker and walked briskly towards the brown-haired vampire, talking loudly enough for Seto to hear.

"What did he want?"

In response, brown-hair also raised his voice. "Well, boss, he wanted to buy the first one over there."

"How much was he offering?"

"Four gold."

"FOUR GOLD?" Brown-hair shrunk away. "Yuugi has never bought a slave in his life, and suddenly he's willing to spend four gold? Why'd you refuse?"

"I… I thought you wanted…"

"I want gold, idiot! Bring the slave to him and get me my money!"

"Y-yes sir."

"Where is he?"

"In… in the woods, sir."

"Fine. Hurry up!"

Brown-hair rushed up to Seto and untied him, dragging him briskly outside. The harsh air was a slap on Seto's bare skin, and if he could've, he would have screamed. The harsh wind dulled the ache that the injection had left him with, but it was so… cold….

He barely noticed when the vampire pushed him down into a kneeling position in a cart of some sort, or when his wrists were bound behind him and his ankles secured together. The cart started moving, but still, Seto paid no heed. All that he could think of was the cold. The snow that fell on his body melted into little rivers of pure, numbing pain, dripping down his back to his waist. His natural reaction was to cringe desperately away from the icy touch. Instead, he remained frozen.

As his body grew numb(er), he forced himself to stop thinking about the temperature. Instead, he directed his eyes around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. They were passing through what looked like a primitive village, with small houses and no phone lines. As they passed, people came out of the houses to stare, and Seto wished that he could somehow hide the scars that ran across his body. Since he couldn't, he settled for glaring at each of them in turn with wind-stung eyes.

The houses were thinning out now, and he could see more and more snowy landscape between each of them. Consequently, the houses seemed more run down. The last houses they passed sported peeling, sun-bleached paint probably nowhere near its original color and gaping windows like missing teeth, crooked and shutter-less. And then, they were out of the village.

Though he thought to wonder why they had just exited the village, he didn't really care. Of course, his mind had no such inclination, darkly supplying him with more than enough reasons. Now they were nearing trees, or rather, tree stumps. Seto hadn't thought that trees would grow in such a cold climate, but apparently, they did. Or perhaps they didn't, and that's why they were cut down. The vampire with the weird hair was sitting on one of the stumps, holding in one hand a knife and in the other, something wooden. As they neared, Seto realized that the boy was whittling. Faintly, he made out a beak.

"Yuugi!"

"Good afternoon!" Yuugi looked up, smiling innocently, before his gaze fell confusedly on Seto.

"Well, we've changed our mind**s**! This one is for sale. Six gold, you said?"

The small vampire pursed his lips. "Well, look at him! He's freezing! You've probably done some permanent damage; he'll be dead by tomorrow. And besides, I also changed my mind. Three gold, like theasking price."

Brown-hair gaped. Seto could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had promised his boss four 'gold', intending to keep two for himself. But if he returned with only three…

"And I'll tip you another for the delivery, how does that sound?"

"…Um, that sounds good."

Smiling cheerfully, Yuugi stood, setting his knife on the stump and the whittled figure in his coat pocket. Out of a bag hanging at his hip, he drew out four coins and put them on the other's open palm. Fingers closed around them firmly, and, as if hoping to leave before Yuugi could change his mind _again_, brown-hair left, muttering darkly to himself.

Yuugi inspected Seto with solemn consideration, looking amused when the human returned his gaze squarely. Only seconds passed before Yuugi seemed to have decided something. From his bag, he drew a small vial of golden liquid and approached Seto, putting it to the man's lips and tilting the man's head back a bit. Not really having a choice, Seto let the liquid slip down his throat, burning not unpleasantly, while he imagined all the terrible things he'd do to the vampire when he got free. A growl built up in the back of Seto's throat, and he shook his head violently, sending the vial flying. He tried to choke up the liquid in his mouth, and a few drops dribbled from his lips, down his chin. They froze almost instantly. When the vial landed, the last of its contents seeped out, melting a hole in the snow.

That was when Seto realized what he had just done. Seto blinked, and then repeated the process, pleased that he could. How was it possible for him to move? Looking somewhat annoyed, Yuugi picked the knife up from his tree stump and walked closer.

Even though he was bound at the wrists and ankles, eventhough he was completely numb, eventhough he was about to be tortured in unthinkable ways, Seto held his chin as high as he could while completely numb and glared at the vampire approaching him as best he could with the cold wind lashing at his eyes, relieved at the fact that he could do either at all. Hey, if he could move, it was at least an improvement from a few minutes ago.

The rather small vampire didn't even falter, merely circled around behind Seto, knife in hand. Did Seto really want to know what was happening? Did he really want to know what it was that Yuugi was doing to him? Yes. But his arms were so numb that he couldn't feel a thing. Yuugi might've been hacking them off, and Seto would've been oblivious.

He did, however, feel it when a weight settled on his shoulders a few minutes later. Before he could even try to turn his frozen neck to investigate, Yuugi had put his face against the side of Seto's head, using his hands to push the human closer. The hands were tiny but warm, and it seemed impossible that anything could feel so warm after the cold… but Seto realized that he himself was warmer than just a few seconds ago.

"Orange," Yuugi whispered quietly, reverently, almost gently, his breath stirring the sensitive hairs in Seto's ear. Before the human could even begin to question, the warm touch was gone from his face and Yuugi appeared in his circle of vision, minus his cloak. He plucked the pieces of the broken vial out of the snow, slipped it back in his pouch, and continued walking in a sort of semi-arc until he disappeared once more behind Seto's back.

By the time Seto's neck cooperated with him enough to allow him view of what was behind him, the falling snow was quickly filling up Yuugi's footprints.

**To Be Continued…**


	3. Light

**Title:** Tsubasa o Orinasu Mono (**Part I of the Cubes Trilogy.**)

**Summary:** AU; yaoi? Found by a clan vampires, Seto and his colleagues can only hope that their captors will kill them swiftly. But maybe humans aren't the only ones trapped among the vampires.

**Warnings:** None, methinks.

**Thanks: **to tenshimagic, for her wonderful editing skills that saved me from writing "vile" instead of "vial" on multiple occasions.

**Chapter 3:** Light

* * *

So Yuugi had left him in the snow. To freeze to death?

Why?

Apparently, Yuugi had paid four 'gold' for him. Grudgingly, Kaiba admitted that, by vampire standards at least, Yuugi owned him. So why would he just leave? Did he expect Kaiba to just wait out there like an obedient puppy dog? Of course, he really had no other choice, seeing how he was bound and completely frozen.

To prove his point, he struggled against his bonds, and found that they were gone. Shock enlarging his eyes, he painfully bent one arm up so he could look at it, not quite believing that it was free.

The cloak fell off with an almost inaudible thud, and his torso, which had been warmed by the fabric, complained. Carefully, with no little incredulity, he picked the cloak up and slipped it back around his shoulders. He stood, sore muscles screaming, and slipped his arms through the sleeves, pulling the edges of the cloak together to better cover himself.

Yuugi had… cut his bonds… given him his own cloak… and left… after whispering the name of… a fruit? Contemplating this ashe began to massage the life rather painfully back into his limbs and gritting his teeth to keep from hissing in pain, he concluded that all vampires were completely bonkers. Too much snow could do that to a person. Or non-person.

Well, he figured, rubbing his hands rigorously over his face, at least he was free. If Yuugi had expected him to just sit here, he shouldn't have cut his bonds. And now he would just run and…

Taking a hesitant step, he realized that running was easier said than done. Knees weak and ankles sore, he found himself practically falling face-first into the snow. He managed to catch himself in time, but when he stood straight, his knees trembled uncontrollably. Of course, there was nobody around to see, so there was really no sense in trying to uphold his dignity (even if he was Seto Kaiba), but he still didn't want to be trembling, so…

Wait.

It was too perfect.

There was no way he could be allowed escape so easily. How could… Why would Yuugi just let him go?

They must've been watching.

Eyes widening with enlightenment, Seto rotated slowly to get a good look at his surroundings. They could be hiding anywhere, waiting for him to break forth into song or some other such ridiculous thing. He could picture them as cats, with strange Cheshire grins, toying with their prey and laughing as they crushed the hope out of dying eyes…

Hm. Well, he'd just have to defeat them at their own game.

Slowly, he resumed trying to bring the life back to his pale cheeks, wondering just how many people they had tortured like this, first giving the illusion of freedom, then taking it all away… Such a tactic wouldn't succeed on Seto, of course. Seto was one step ahead of them: he already knew they were out there.

Posture regal and step confident, Seto walked along the row of tree stumps in the opposite direction Yuugi had gone, knees bent just so to prevent them from shaking, eyes set on the seemingly-endless avenue of uncut trees he could see in the distance. Even so, he remained alert, waiting for them to jump out of the bushes so he could turn right around and take out his anger and humiliation on them.

He had just been starting to tire when what had been a wall of trees to his left gave way to empty snow. Turning around, he found that he had just passed by the entire forest, with not a single vampire to be found. No matter. They were probably still trying to lull him into a false sense of security. He'd have to stay alert.

The trees had long since vanished into the distance and all sense of time had disappeared from his mind when he finally stopped to admit that maybe, just maybe, they weren't out there, waiting to get him after all. Snowy dunes had melted into one another in Seto's memory, and he realized that he could go insane out here, staring at the same thing forever despite having covered so much ground. His legs, recently freed from their stiffness, were complaining, and despite the cloak, his fingers felt numb.

Of course, he'd have to continue walking. He couldn't exactly stay out here forever. Wasn't there a town around here somewhere? Juneau? Yes, there was a city somewhere ahead of him because he had landed, in an airplane, in Haines, and they had driven southeast from Haines, and in that direction was Juneau. That is, if he was walking in the right direction at all. Though with all his luck, he'd find probably himself in the Pacific by nightfall; too tired to distinguish between land and water in the dark, he'd probably fall right in.

To get his mind off the incessant landscape, he turned his mind to thoughts of civilization, thoughts of a warm bed, good food, and a computer. Mokuba must've been so worried by now… no, wait… had it really only been six in the morning when they had set off in the van? Depending on what time it was (2:00 at the latest, judging by the sun), Seto couldn't even have been gone for more than twelve hours. The thought was mind-boggling.

Digging his fingers into the pockets for warmth, he stopped walking when each hand brushed against something. Something smooth was in his left hand, and he drew it out to find another vial, filled with that same amber liquid Yuugi had force-fed him earlier. Half expecting a little slip of paper reading "Drink Me" to be affixed on it, he turned it around and around, but found nothing.

Did Yuugi honestly expect him to drink some random potion?

Snorting, Seto raised it into the air and heaved it down, expecting it to break into little shards. Instead, it held together, didn't even crack. Glaring at it and promising to deal with it later, he turned his attention to the other object, rough against the tips of the fingers of his right hand. Drawing it out, he found that it was wooden: the thing Yuugi had been whittling, perhaps?

It was a dove.

Carefully, he stroked one well-formed wing, wondering why Yuugi had made it, why Yuugi had put it in the pocket if he had known he was going to give the cloak away. Peace, doves meant. But wings always meant freedom.

No, he reconsidered. Wings only meant freedom to those who had desperate want for it. Wings only meant freedom to captives.

Something made him bend stiffly and pluck the vial from the snow, fumbling to uncork it with fingers made clumsy by the cold. With only the slightest of hesitations, he tipped all of its contents down his throat, gazing all the while at the bird he clutched in his other hand.

It wasn't until later that he realized how much warmer he was, as if he were wearing three cloaks instead of just one. In fact, he barely felt the cold anymore.

Strange.

So lost was he in this miraculous new discovery that he didn't notice the rather significant change in the monotonous scenery.

"Para, look, we have a visitor," a voice, very close by, interrupted Seto's thoughts. His eyes snapped up, to be met with a bald man wearing oriental-looking, pale green robes draped over black sleeves and leggings. Neither green nor black looked particularly warm, and Seto wondered why the wearer wasn't dead.

In response, another man stepped out from a door, bringing Seto's attention to the fact that there was a door at all. The door led to a stone building that looked about two stories tall. It was cylindrical in shape, a throwback to the towered castle. It was definitely not something you'd expect to find in Asia.

This didn't really matter, though, because that was when Seto spotted the gate.

Taller than the not-at-all-oriental building, it was constructed entirely of black metal, formed into swooping curves and sharp angles that looked as if they'd really hurt to walk into. In either direction of the gate's hinges spread stone walls. Was this… the boundary?

"He looks lost, does he not?" The second man was saying when Seto tuned back around to stare with fascination at the matching tattoos that perched prominently on each of their foreheads. Was it Chinese? Japanese? Korean? Para's looked formed entirely of diagonals while the other's was constructed mostly of bold, horizontal lines.

"So, traveler, what brings you to vampire property?"

Seto scrutinized them cautiously, choosing his words with the same amount of care. "Actually, I was just leaving."

At this, they both simultaneously burst into laughter.

"Did you hear that, brother? He thinks he's leaving!"

"I heard, Para, shall we enlighten him?"

Derisive smile still lingering on his face, Para turned his beak-like nose to Seto, dipping his head and shoulders in a mock bow. He spread an arm towards the gate, in a gesture of welcome. "Please, be our guest. Continue 'just leaving'."

This seemed ridiculously funny to the both of them, and they crowed with laughter yet again. Impatiently, Seto pushed past them and inspected the lock holding the gate shut. It was old fashioned and looked like it went along with a skeleton key, which Seto most definitely did not have, but keys weren't always necessary, were they?

Humming lightly to himself, he twisted the lock around to inspect its back, then tilted his head to inspect how exactly it was secured to the gate. Ah. He tugged on the lock, newly unfrozen fingers slipping a bit, as the lock was cold, if not his hand, and kept on tugging until the lock broke free with a snap.

The two men stopped laughing.

Smiling to himself and marveling at the wonders of rust, Seto slowly pulled the gate open and stepped through.

They recovered quickly.

"Very good, human, you have passed the gate… but can you also pass this test?" At Seto's puzzled expression, Para motioned before them, and his partner spoke for him.

"The test of the doors. Which one will you choose?"

There were hundreds of them, the line stretching out as far as the eye could see. It was absurd, of course, all these doors sticking up in the middle of the vast, snowy landscape, each painted a different color, some blindingly vivid and others inconspicuous enough to blend in with the snow, giving the illusion of uneven spacing between the doors.

Did the doors actually lead anywhere?

They were all in a row, knobs to the right, hinges to the left. Besides their color, they were blank. Some were large, some were oddly shaped, and yet, there was really nothing remarkable about any of them that wasn't repeated in another door. Of course, no two of them were exactly alike. Whoever made them must've had way too much time on their hands.

"What… is this?"

"One door will lead to your freedom," Para explained gleefully, "And all the others will lead to your demise."

"And why can't I just walk around them?" Seto demanded, eyes darting from one door to another.

"Try."

Glaring suspiciously, Seto did so. Picking a spot between a medium sized, white door and a small, oval door, he marched up and promptly collided with empty space. Where his body had hit what seemed to be nothing, wall flashed briefly into view before disappearing again.

"You are actually standing before a building and, though invisible, it will be your end."

"The building holds nine hundred ninety nine methods of death. There are one thousand and one doors," the other added helpfully.

"What's with the extra one?" Seto asked, busily assessing this new development.

"Let me amend that. There are frequently one thousand and one doors. But since the doors are constantly shifting, there are occasionally fewer, occasionally more."

"And so what's the extra door?" Seto repeated.

"Well, if you're really unfortunate, you won't pick either life or death…"

"And you'll be cursed to dwell forever in between."

That made no sense to Seto, but it didn't really matter anyway. Walking quickly away from the two men that finished each other's sentences (which was just plain creepy), he inspected each door as he went by, and found that indeed, they sometimes changed. It might've been amusing to watch them change, the once-solid wood melting right before his eyes, taking on new shapes and colors, but for the fact that his life depended upon this decision.

"Do the same doors always lead to the same place? If I picked, say, the blue door with the bites taken out of the corners, and then someone comes along later and finds the same door in a different place and went through it, will we both have gone to the same place?" Seto wondered aloud, then took the surprise in their eyes for a yes.

He wandered along the line of doors. Hot pink. Tranquil green. Brownish gray. Woah, that was a weird shape.

"What happens if I open a door, don't like it, and choose a different one?"

Para and his partner grinned in unison, revealing pearly white incisors. "Guess."

Repressing a shudder, Kaiba quickly turned around again, inspecting each door with renewed caution. Which one was he supposed to pick? He probably wouldn't even see all the doors before he froze to death. 1001, were there? His fingers itched to just reach out, grab a random doorknob, and pull it open, but he had to use caution. Was there a trick to this? Maybe there was a pattern to the doors…

Red. Teal. Black. White. Off-white. Light pink. Maroon.

…Orange.

Seto stood before the door, stunned. It was normally shaped, possibly like something one would find in a cheap apartment. There wasn't much to set it apart from all the other doors. Quickly, he glanced to his right, and then his left. Except that no other door bore orange, in any shade or hue. Again, he looked at the door before him.

The doors always led to the same destination.

"Hurry," one of them called, or perhaps they both spoke at once, grinning hungrily. "There is a time limit, you know."

Putting a few fingers to his face, Seto remembered a warm touch and a soft voice uttering, "Orange".

What other choice did he have?

Two sets of feet that sounded as one began advancing, probably tired of waiting. That was perfectly all right.

Seto was tired of waiting as well.

Without further hesitation, he pushed open the door, stepped through, and closed it carefully behind him.

**End Part I**

**Note: **Congratulations. You have made it to the end of this story. I would like to admit that this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written, including my first story ever (a shameful Mary Sue) and that weird After Dusk thing.

I had originally put "End Part I" so I wouldn't get mauled for my lack of a decent ending again, but I think there will seriously be a Part II later on. And a Part III as well. Look for the next part of the **Cubes** trilogy (for that is what this is called) by June. It should be called **Branches and Things**, unless my sanity returns to me in time.

Oh, and just to let you know, **Tsubasa o Orinasu Mono** means **Wingweaver**.


End file.
